Of Doom and Destiny
by Hawki
Summary: Oneshot: "The sands of time have run out, son of Durotan. The cries of war echo...upon the wind. The remnants of the past scar the land. Which is besieged once again...by conflict."


**Of Doom and Destiny**

_The sands of time have run out, son of Durotan._

I've been here before.

It's the thought that goes through my mind as I lead the Horde forwards. Orcs, trolls, and tauren. United to put a stop to Hellscream's madness. To defeat the demons that plague us, and to find a new home for our peoples. In this land called Kalimdor, a land I did not know even existed until half a year ago.

And yet…I feel I've been here before. Or at least, done this before. Companies of warriors are behind me. Kodo riders keep our march in sync with the beat of their drums, while our cavalry stand ready at our flanks. We have even brought siege weaponry with us. The wyverns too have leant their aid. Much of this is new to me. A year ago, I could not have imagined leading a Horde that consisted of more than my own kind. Let alone lead my people to war _against _my own kind. Against those who would sell themselves, and our people, into the hands of demons once more.

_The cries of war echo, upon the wind._

I can hear the chants of the Warsong. The air reeks of their magic. The spirits around me are in turmoil. I know I can count on their aid, but for how long, and to what extent, is unknown. The earth groans under the feet of those whose blood runs fel. Fire is my friend, but the fire we will face, as well as the fire that falls from the sky, is fire of a very different kind to what the spirits can provide. Water…water is rare in this land, I cannot count on its aid for long. The wind blows its breeze, but is torn apart by corruption within the air. And the spirits of the wild…they are the faintest of all. We will face animals of a kind Mother Nature did not bear.

_The remnants of the past scar the land._

I can see the Warsong now. Their banners alone would be enough to tell me of their approach, but here, across the barrens, I can see what they have become. Warlocks wield fire in their hands. Their warriors' weapons run red, matching the colour of their skin. Giant demons walk within their ranks, and no signs of distress are clear. This is a perversion of the Horde. This is a throwback to darker days, depravity beyond anything that was done to this world. Even what humanity did to my people pales in comparison to what the spawn of the Twisting Nether would have us become.

_Which is besieged once again, by conflict._

Humanity… "war makes strange bedfellows," as the human saying goes. It was a saying that reflected on their own history, when human, elf, dwarf, and gnome, defeated the Horde in the Second War, and subsequently enslaved my people. I look around those beside me – orc, troll, and tauren. I do not find these "bedfellows" strange. The humans themselves, the ones the Proudmoore girl has led to this land, now _those _are strange allies. Fitting then that they are nowhere to be seen. I can count on the girl to do her part in the battle. The demons wish us all harm, they do not distinguish between race, creed, or gender. She understands that. Enough to fight. But enough to keep her forces separate from my own. She trusts me no further than I trust her, and that trust extends even shorter than those under my command. We will defeat the demons, and be done with each other.

_As mortal armies rush blindly to our doom, the burning shadow comes to consume us all._

The Warsong are chanting, and not just their warlocks. And I let out a chuckle. I remember now. What I saw in the vision given to me by the Prophet. It was this battle. Minus my allies, battling humans instead of fel orcs. The skies rain fire. The battle will still be fought. All that has changed is the details. The essence remains the same.

_Not this time._

The Horde…the _true _Horde…lets out a roar. And I join them. One last battle. Cast back the shadow. Free ourselves. Drive the demon back. We will charge into destiny. Not into doom.

The Warsong chant. The demons roar. And my people stand ready.

"For the Horde!"

And the battle begins.

For despite the words of the Prophet, the sands of time have not run out for us.

* * *

><p><em>AN_

_I've heard it theorized that the vision Medivh gives Thrall at the start of _Reign of Chaos _is a glimpse of a future in which he never took the Horde to Kalimdor, instead remaining in the Eastern Kingdoms to battle the Alliance. I kind of agree, but that doesn't explain the presence of kodo riders, not to mention that Lordaeron would also be falling to the Scourge by the time the Burning Legion arrives. If anything, I take it more as an abstract representation of the price of not uniting._


End file.
